


To Keep the Yule Cat at Bay

by IrishWitch58



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, M/M, Q hates Christmas, Ugly Holiday Sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 17:15:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17026809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrishWitch58/pseuds/IrishWitch58
Summary: Bond is finally spending a Christmas at home. Q doesn't like Christmas. I am awful at summaries and titles.





	To Keep the Yule Cat at Bay

**Author's Note:**

> I posted a comment about the Icelandic tradition of books and chocolate for Xmas Eve over on the 00Q group on Facebook. I was then reminded about the Yule Cay and advised fuzzy socks had to be included.

The Holiday season was in full swing. The shoppers were becoming more and more rabid. The air in all the stores was redolent of pine and cinnamon. James Bond had not spent a Christmas in England in years. He found he had missed the feel of the holiday and was looking forward to celebrating a bit. He had a new reason to celebrate. His relationship with Q was not new exactly. They had finally stopped dancing around each other over a long weekend 18 months ago. The result had been a working relationship that had never been better and a trusting and affectionate partnership when they were home. But there were still things that they didn’t know about each other. And one thing Bond didn’t know was why Q seemed to hate Christmas. Last year Bond had been in Iceland as part of a high level security conference. It wasn’t high risk and he had been pleased to have a bit of down time to appreciate some of the local customs. But Q had been very cool about his reactions to James’ messages about his discoveries and replied only an absent ‘Thanks’ in response to the gift James had sent. True, he had seemed to love the native Icelandic wool scarf and wore it all season and he had been extremely glad to greet James when he had returned home. Which made it all the more important to find out what to do about this year’s holiday which was only a week and a half away. Thus he had arranged a meet with a potential source of intel and made sure he had appropriate bribes. After all, this was an op of sorts. 

The woman entering the small cafe two blocks from MI6 was elegantly dressed, her coat a cream colored wool with a bright red scarf. Eve Moneypenny garnered more than a few admiring looks as she approached the table. James stood to greet her and held her chair. “I’ve already ordered you a hot chocolate. Check the menu for whatever else you’d like. Their scones are excellent.”

Eve dropped coat and scarf on the spare chair and gave James a kiss on the cheek before seating herself. “The scones are fine, thanks. To what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected invitation?”

“Always direct, Moneypenny. I need to pick your brain a little.” James paused while the waiter brought their beverages and took the order for the scones. When the waiter left, he resumed. “I need some advice on Q.”

Eve sipped her chocolate. Wiping her mouth delicately, she began with a question and a considering look. “I will assume you have discovered his dislike of all things Christmas related?”

Bond reminded himself that she was a spy and had skills in line with that. “This is the first time I’ve had the chance to spend Christmas with him. I brought home a wreath for the door and some garland for the mantle. Nothing ostentatious, just pine and a little bit of red ribbon. He looked down his nose, then ignored it. Did I miss something? Is he Jewish?”

“Not so far as I know,” Eve replied. “He doesn’t celebrate any of the December holidays but he seems to particularly avoid Christmas related practices. You haven’t been here so you haven’t had to deal with it.” She sighed and said, “I’m going to need more chocolate for this one.” Bond signalled the waiter and reordered. Eve settled herself with elbows on the table and hands clasped together, leaning slightly forward. “He never attends the holiday parties. None of them. He banned decorations in his department originally. He tried to limit leaves but HR said he had to grant some. He eventually broke down on the decorations when the minions began to complain that it was religious oppression. He allowed displays but only those contained in individual workspaces, nothing in the general environment. No gift exchanges on shift. No holiday music.”

Bond was staring at her, frankly disbelieving. “Any idea why?”

Eve sighed. “I actually asked him once. He said it was the ultimate in hypocrisy. We are an agency dedicated to preventing the worst of humanity from doing awful things and we do horrible things ourselves in order to accomplish our goals. He extends that to the rest of the populace by the way. He doesn’t see the point in goodwill to all being celebrated when it is ignored the rest of the year.” Eve paused as the waiter returned with the scones and drink refills. She nibbled at her scone and made a pleased appreciative noise. “You’re lucky you weren’t here last year. The threats on accounting were bad enough but the elf massacre was just hideous.”

Bond frowned and put down his coffee, visibly preparing himself. “Tell me.”

Eve gave him a pitying look. “You asked for it. Accounting and finance sent carollers. They went to all the departments, singing, joking, collecting cookies and handing out candy. Very nice actually. Q sealed up the door when he realized they were headed his way and threatened them with turning on the fire sprinklers if they didn’t leave.”

Bond put his hands to his face, a disbelieving groan emanating from him. “What about the rest?”

“There’s an American thing called the elf on the shelf. Basically a small toy that is supposed to remind kids to be good so Father Christmas brings them presents. They became quite the thing and adults put them everywhere. Apparently several of the minions had them in their cubicles. After the caroler siege, one had the temerity to dress an elf in a miniature cardigan. The following morning every single elf in the department was found beheaded and dismembered, with the cardigan one left with the weapon, a letter opener, still pinning it to the bulletin board.”

“It’s worse than I thought. I was just going to ask if you knew what he might like for a gift. I’m not sure now. He might come after me with a letter opener.” Bond looked as sad as Eve had ever seen him.

“Oh he liked your gift last year. He wore it everywhere. He kept it folded up in his drawer when he wasn’t wearing it, to keep it away from anything like grease or tea. He’s wearing it again this year. He pets it. I haven’t mentioned that to him. He’d likely deny it.” Eve added more cream to the last bit of scone. “I’d recommend you find something he’s been wanting. See that bookseller he uses. I think Q said something about a title he had a deposit on.” Bond was already planning his campaign as Eve stood and grabbed her coat. “Good luck and Happy Christmas.” She sauntered out the door. 

Bond pursued his new lead immediately. The bookseller remembered the order but disappointed Bond when he advised that the book was not going to be available until January due to some shipping difficulty. Bond thanked the man and made note of the publisher. He googled the address of their London offices and made that his next stop. He eventually made his way to Irma, a woman with silvery grey hair, worn in a casual bun with a holly topped pencil stuck in it.

“May I help you?” Irma asked with a cheerful smile. Bond noted the profusion of holiday related paraphernalia around the small office and smiled back. 

“The new illustrated Tolkien you’re publishing. Any possibility you can point me to a retailer who might have it?”

“I am so sorry but those that had any copies are already sold out and we can’t assure delivery until after the holiday.” Irma did look sympathetic so Bond tried a further gambit.

“That’s a great pity as my partner was really anticipating it. It’s our first Christmas together and I really wanted to get him something special.” 

Irma glanced at the framed photo on her desk, two young men standing with arms around each other in front of a small cottage. Bond had noticed the picture and guessed he might have pushed the right button. “Well, I have discretion to distribute reviewers’ copies.” She grabbed a notepad adorned with reindeer and scribbled a short note. “Go to room 27B in the basement and hand this to Freddie. They’ll get you one. If they ask you’re a reviewer for a college journal. And Happy Christmas to you and your young man.” 

Bond returned the Christmas wishes and headed for the basement. Freddie turned out to be a young person in a jumper featuring cats tangled up in a string of Christmas lights that actually blinked. They peered through wire framed glasses at the note and muttered as they headed down an aisle, disappearing into the dim interior of the storeroom. They returned a few minutes later with the book, still wrapped in a protective plastic. “Here you are, sir. And have a wonderful holiday.”

As simple as that, a bit of thinking outside the box and a sympathetic employee and Bond had the book in hand. He headed back out in search of the next part of his mission. The chocolatier was on a small court, with an old fashioned wood sign hanging from a wrought iron frame. He waited in the queue for several minutes, inhaling the scent of fine chocolate and perusing the offerings. Finally at the counter, he requested a sample and was provided with a truffle that melted on the tongue and provided a perfect mix of sweet and bitter. “I’ll take a mix of the truffles, three dozen I think.” The man behind the counter nodded and began to fill the order, placing each morsel into a fitted box patterned in a glossy black and gold.

“Would you need this wrapped?” the clerk asked as he worked. He indicated a series of paper rolls behind him.

Bond eyed the papers and decided on a very unholiday steampunk looking pattern he thought Q might find humorous. “That one,” he gestured. Then he remembered the book. “I don’t suppose I could pay a bit extra to have something else wrapped the same?” 

The clerk eyed the book and nodded. “No charge, sir. Customer goodwill and the season and all.” Bond handed the book over and received both packages back in a black and gold patterned shopping bag.  
He was almost done. He hefted the bag and headed for his last stop. He braved the aisles of Harrods, purchasing a bottle of Eve’s favorite perfume but couldn’t find what he was looking for. Disappointed in his quest, he was heading back to the office to stow his valuable cargo when he saw a small bright space opposite. The sign advertised a .com and seemed to be filled with accessories like hats and gloves and, happy coincidence, socks. Bond hurried across and began perusing the profusion of colors and patterns, immediately eliminating all the red, green, elves and antler wearing dinosaurs. He found what he was looking for at the rear of the display. There was a pair of the softest, fluffiest bed socks in a vivid aubergine. When he plucked them off the hook, he discovered the packaging was for two pair, the other one being striped in deep chocolate brown on pink. He searched for moment and scooped up another package of black and white stripes and red with black diamonds. He purchased both and tucked them in with the other items in the bag and headed back to MI6, locking the bag in the file drawer in the office he shared with 006. Alec was in Montevideo for the next month so nobody would disturb the packages. Now to wait for the 24th.

 

The morning of the 21st dawned chilly but clear. Q was thankful for the lack of rain. The skies had been sullen and damp for days. He occupied himself with routine chores and kept an eye on his subordinates who were engaged in some sort of holiday meme exchange in between spates of work. He decided he could ignore it so long as work continued and, so far, it seemed to be moving along. Best to leave it alone. If he intervened, they would only find some other way to indulge in the collective insanity. He was interrupted by the arrival of Moneypenny in an outfit that defied description. She was wearing a Christmas jumper with small rodents also wearing Christmas jumpers and her head sported an enormous red felt hat with a pompon and bell. She entered his office and placed a paper sack on the desk. “You called, Q?” She smiled brightly and gestured at the bag.

He leaned forward and gingerly unfolded the top, smiling as he drew out a cinnamon roll with extra glaze. “This almost makes up for the attire.” He took a bite and gestured at Eve’s outfit. She ignored him, sampling her own pastry and settling back in the visitor chair as Q engaged the door lock. 

“So, you called me here. And I brought pastries. So?” Eve cocked a well groomed eyebrow and waited.

“He’s up to something. Bond, I mean. He brought home pine stuff, not much but enough to be suspicious. And he hasn’t asked me that question.” Q fidgeted and sipped a little tea to wash down another bite of cinnamon roll. 

“Aww, no proposal yet? I’m sure he’s just waiting for the right ring.” Eve smirked at her own humor. Q patently did not find her amusing.

“NO! The question about what I want as a present. Which means he already has something and I don’t know what it is and I can’t very well figure out what to do if he gives me something…” He trailed off as Moneypenny began giggling. He crossed his arms and scowled.

“I am sorry, Q,” she said when she finally stopped snickering. “You really are a grinch. Why not just get him something you know he’ll like because you want him to have something nice? Not because of a holiday but because he’s James.” Q sat back and stared as if the idea had never occurred to him. “And before you ask, books are something he always wants. He’s partial to the classics and military history. He leaves them around the agents’ lounge all the time.” She waited a moment then added, “You’re welcome.” She rose and waited for the door to unlock. 

“Thanks, Moneypenny. I appreciate the insight.” Q had already gone back to his work.

“Merry Christmas, you old humbug.” She headed back to the lifts and wondered who she could persuade into a good old fashioned pub crawl. Dealing with this sort of nonsense had never been in the job description.

 

Books, Q thought. I can do books. He checked the status of missions and, seeing nothing critical, decided to take the rest of the afternoon. He avoided the heavily trafficked areas and headed for a street that had a few specialty bookstores. His favorite one was closed. The owner had remarked he was taking time to visit his elderly mother. But there were others still open and he began browsing. In the second shop, he came to a section of older volumes, leather bindings and gilt lettering. He picked up one in a lovely burgundy and opened the cover. Jules Verne, an anthology of several of his works. The stories were illustrated with color prints. The one of the Nautilus attacked by the squid was striking. He recalled James had a liking for the Disney movie of 20,000 Leagues and smiled happily. This was the right gift, he was sure. He took it to the counter and paid the rather extravagant price and was offered gift wrapping. He almost turned it down until he saw the paper with small black bow ties on it. It seemed so very James. He exited the store with a smile and headed for home. 

 

December 24th. Q had already made out the roster of who was working based on who had off last year. He had also shortened the shifts a bit so even those working had a chance to head home and have time with friends and family. He wasn’t entirely unsympathetic after all. He was closing the last of his emails when James appeared at the door. He’s been absent all day. The last few weeks he had been on downtime, as a result of a shoulder dislocation and he had stopped by Q division at least once a day, usually for lunch. He was unfailingly polite and professional at work, something Q had initially worried about. He had missed seeing him today and happily abandoned his keyboard, and grabbed his coat and bag. It had been wonderful having James home with him in the evenings and he had been logging less overtime. 

The remaining minions offered goodnights and waves and James headed them to the garage. He’s been driving a Mercedes with automatic transmission to save wear and tear on his shoulder. The big sedan warmed up quickly and he exited the garage smoothly, driving without undue haste to a restaurant he liked. Q was a bit disappointed, having looked forward to an evening alone and long slow loving. James merely pulled up to the kerb and a waiter ran out with a large insulated bag. “Right on time, sir.” He handed over the bag and accepted a large tip and ran back in. 

James grinned at Q’s amazed expression. “I ordered earlier and gave them a time. They know I’m a good customer and I gave their maitre’d a hefty gratuity.”  
The meal was a happy memory and he and James were exchanging kisses on the sofa. James stood up for a moment and returned with a black and gold shopping bag. Q had no idea where that had come from. It hadn’t been in the flat yesterday as far as his quick reconnoiter of the closets had been able to ascertain. James sat down, drew out a package wrapped in steampunk paper and handed it over. Q eyed it with suspicion. “What is this?”

“Definition of a surprise is that you need to open it to find out,” James replied smugly. Q thought of the package tucked under his side of the mattress and began to peel back the tape. He sat shaking his head as the contents were revealed.

“There’s no way you could have gotten this. I’ve been waiting ages for this.” He slit the plastic protective wrap with a pocket knife James handed him and opened the cover. 

“The point is I did get it and I hope it makes you happy.” James watched as Q scanned favorite parts of the text he was obviously familiar with and admired the illustrative plates. He reached into the bag after a few minutes and withdrew the other package. 

Q frowned. “You’re not going to inundate me with gifts, are you?”

“Hardly, darling Q. This goes with the first one according to the Icelandic tradition.”

Q opened the second box and immediately plucked out a chocolate. He made a truly obscene moan as the truffle crossed his tongue. “You can bring me chocolates like these any time. This is glorious. Here, try one.” He held out the box and James selected one and tugged Q forward to share it in a messy kiss. 

“That was glorious,” James agreed. He licked an errant smear of chocolate from Q’s cheek and sat back, obviously pleased with himself.

“Oh, wait a minute.” Q jumped up and ran for the bedroom, returning with the gift he had been hiding. “Here.” He offered the package and sat watching intently as James carefully unwrapped the paper, chuckling over the bow ties. 

“I love it,” James exclaimed, turning the book over and admiring the condition. “Verne is one of the authors I go back to over and over. Thank you, love.” He placed the book on the coffee table and drew Q closer. “Shall we celebrate impromptu presents, then?” He waggled his eyebrows comically. Q pinched him.

“Call them anything you like so long as I get you into bed.” He climbed to his feet and dragged James along to the bedroom, surprised when James paused to grab the books, the chocolate and the bag. 

 

Much later in the evening, Q emerged from the shower to find James settled on the bed. James had grabbed the first shower and looked wonderful in the glow of the bedside lamps, wearing only a pair of worn flannel pyjama pants. Q’s were waiting folded up on his side of the bed. He tugged them on and frowned at the other items underneath. He picked them up. Bed socks, bright aubergine and furry. The darned things were ridiculous and very cozy Q decided as he sat to tug them on, only then noticing that James was also wearing fuzzy socks, bright red with black diamonds on them. He began to laugh. “An intimidating sight we are,” Q laughed, pointing at the socks as he settled in against his pillows. 

James placed the chocolate box between them and gave him a kiss. “The Icelanders have some good ideas. They spend Christmas Eve reading books they’ve been given and eating chocolate. Seems an excellent use of time to me.”

Q snagged a chocolate and carefully wiped his fingers before opening his own book. “I have no argument with that.” He wiggled his toes in the incredibly warm socks and began to read. James was such an unexpected person sometimes. And it really was a great tradition. He hoped they might do it again next year. A holiday activity for the two of them. 

James read a bit, ate a few chocolates, and occasional gave Q a lazy kiss. He congratulated himself on managing to lure the man into a minimal celebration of the holiday and decided he wouldn’t tell him about the story that the socks were to keep the Yule cat at bay. They were just socks after all.


End file.
